


Black Web of Lies

by Alexander_Wesker



Category: Days Gone (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bi!Deacon, Blood and Gore, Canon-Typical Violence, Extremely Slow Burn, James O'Brian is not a Freaker, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Rating May Change, Set before Skizzo's betrayal, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-16
Updated: 2019-07-21
Packaged: 2020-06-29 16:43:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19834315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alexander_Wesker/pseuds/Alexander_Wesker
Summary: James joined NERO because he wanted to help people, but help was not what NERO had in mind. And of their other plans, he doesn't want nothing to do with them...





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 中文 available: [[中文翻译]Black Web of Lies](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24441757) by [GutZeit](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GutZeit/pseuds/GutZeit)



> Hi, this is my first story about this game.  
> Little curiosity about the title, it's a word play, since the word 'Nero' means black in italian, the play in the title it's that it to be read as 'NERO's web of Lies' as opposite of literally. (I know it's not that good of a word play)

When he decided to try to present his resume to NERO (National Emergency Response Organization), just out of the university -with two PhD, in virology and the other in botany- he did it because, in his life, there was nothing -literally nothing- that seemed better than working for someone who wanted to help people.

Looking back at his choices, after two years of literal 'zombie' apocalypse (not that the freakers were literally zombies, they were simply human beings rendered feral by a virus, but apart from that still, unquestionably alive even if they didn't seem to present any form of an intelligence that surpasses the instinctive(in some cases)), James could say with certainty that he was quite disillusioned with his own ideal. So if he would have been willing to put himself in the front row against his superiors just to guarantee a little security to a survivor, now he simply lowered his head and hoped that this person would listen to the soldiers' warnings and not be shot.

After all he could not put himself at risk for every single person, uninfected and not hostile, whom they met even though... honestly, he would have been happy to do so.

Helping others had always been his vocation in a certain sense, and this was part of the reason why he listened to his superiors' orders without protesting, because although he could not immediately help all the survivors he met, he studied the virus and finding a cure would help more people in the long term.

This was what was repeated every time during a field analysis, a non-hostile survivor approached them, in need of cures, or food (things that were certainly not lacking in NERO), and he really felt the instinct to let go of any sample and/or track he was following to go help, so he repeated: ‘ _You can't stop, not now, think about how many lives will be saved when you find the cure’_ and return to focus on his task, suppressing the order to: ' _Let them go_.' which only wanted to be pronounced when he heard the soldiers threaten the survivors, sometimes accompanied by a ' _Don't shoot_ ' he knew would not be heard.

Overall, James O’Brian considered himself a good person. Well as good as someone could remain during an apocalypse that seemed to have made many human beings forget that not all those left were to be treated as freakers. And even though he had to stifle the guilt he felt when he thought of the fact that while he was safe and well fed (relatively, most of the NERO rations consisted of corn and supplements lately) there were people fighting against the freakers, or were killing each other, to have not even a fraction of what he had.

Helping the Drifter, Deacon St. John, had calmed his guilt for a while. Because he could do something, make a difference and even if his superiors found out, he could always say he was threatened. Which was not just an excuse given that Deacon had, in fact, threatened him by pointing his gun at him and basically interrogating him while holding him at gunpoint.

In retrospect the whole situation had been stressful and terrifying and had been almost a repetition of what had happened the first time they had met -Deacon who kept him at gunpoint and tried (and managed) to convince him to do what he said, everything always for Sarah (the first time to save her life and the second to know if there was a chance she was still alive). And going against his apathetic superior to help someone concretely had been the most interesting /worrying thing he had done in the last two years and had made him feel less like a dispensable asset and more like a person. Unfortunately, however, the information he had found and brought to the Drifter wasn’t positive and to crush the hope that he had made flourish was perhaps one of the worst things he had ever done and had transformed his sense of guilt into sheer hatred towards his own incapacity. to succeed in helping someone in a way that really mattered.

"Couldn't it be dangerous?"

A voice broke the silence, attracting James' attention, there should have been no one in the labs apart from him at that time, since he told to himself that if he was unable to help someone at least he could only try a little more in doing something important in the grand scheme of things so he stayed in the lab continuing with his work even though it was well beyond his schedule. Anyone who came in, didn't notice him, still talking to... _whoever_ they was talking to, James didn't recognize either of them.

" _Could it be dangerous_?" Repeated the other sarcastic voice "It is more than _dangerous_ , but _imagine_ , if this succeeds, we will have researchers who don’t need to be protected and super-soldiers"

The two hadn't noticed him yet and O’Brian found himself listening to their conversation with even more interest after hearing that sentence. _What is it that_ _NERO_ _was going to do now?_

“Yes, I had understood this. But if it fails... well, if this new mutation of the virus fails we would lose both, the researchers _and_ the soldiers."

Suddenly James was happy to have, already, put down the sample he was analyzing before they arrived or he could have accidentally caused an outbreak due to the shock he had felt in understanding the implication behind those words, but the empty slide in his hand didn’t have the same fate and fell on the metal counter shattering into many small splinters, but the noise it caused was hidden by the hum of the ventilation system.

"They won't give the virus to all the teams at the same time, I thought it was obvious. In a day, we will have a ‘trial run’, so to speak, with one of the teams. "

The other interlocutor gave a sound of assent, and probably nodded, "Which team?"

"The _Delta_ , we send them more often to missions in the quarantine area, if something should go wrong it would be easier to explain what happened without revealing the Director's plan to everyone"

After hearing the answer, James left the lab quickly and as quietly as he could.

He couldn't believe it, they couldn't really... How could they do this to _him_? How could they consider him so expendable? After all he had done for them? How could they repay his loyalty with... _this_? Use him as a guinea pig in an experiment for which, they were almost certain, they would have had a negative outcome?

James avoided a couple of armed guards -he knew the layout of the labs better than other NERO researchers and he knew how to avoid being noticed... or _seen_ -, a plan was slowly forming in his mind. He took the radio that he always kept with him- since he had decided to follow his little act of insubordination and help Deacon -, trying to enter the correct frequency of the radio held by the Drifter, continuing to avoid the guards and looking for a fairly safe place where... hide until he sent his message. (Hoping that the Drifter would have decided to help him... _despite_ _everything_ )

Finally he succeeded in tuning the correct frequency -after removing the gloves that kept getting caught in the gumming of the navigation keys- and finding a place, more or less safe (he could keep an eye on all the entrances from an almost hidden corner), he opened the communication channel and hoped. He hoped that Deacon had not turned off and /or had got rid of the radio, he hoped that despite the tardiness -it must have been the middle of the night, probably... it was difficult to understand with the continuous lighting 24 hours a day of the laboratories.- he would have answered, even if he had no reason to do so.

"St. John, this is O'Brian, "he tried, calming his voice enough to make it clear, despite the panic he felt. Only static answered him.

He tried again.

"St. John, this is O’Brian”

Static.

James's gaze shifted to the room, where he had hidden himself, checking that no one was going to enter from any of the entrances.

"St. John, this is O’Brian. Do you read me?"

Static.

_He must have turned off the radio, he must have_ _got rid of it_. Why on earth would he have to keep it after he brought him the news that his wife was dead, after giving him hope that she had survived?

"St. John,- "James broke off trying to keep control over his voice to not making it tremble, but _how could he? How could he when he had just discovered that they intended to infect them? When his only chance to avoid his certain end, wasn't responding?_ "- This… is O 'Brian, St. John, do you read me?" He took another breath, trembling, he didn't know how long he could keep it under control.

Heavy footsteps, reinforced boots, standard equipment of the NERO soldiers, stopped in front of one of the doors. James felt his breath catch in his throat, if they found out how the hell he would explain why he was hiding in a storage room trying to contact someone outside of NERO with their radio?

The seconds that passed before the guard went away seemed like hours to the poor researcher, who only when the steps were far enough away to be difficult to hear allowed himself to release the breath he had been holding, trying once again to calm his panic.

He tried again with the radio.

“St. John, this is O’Brian” Static. "St. John... Deacon, _please, answer_.»Static. Static.

James was about to turn off the radio, and possibly surrender to his fate as a future guinea pig, when a voice cut the static.

"O'Brian?"

And the relief of hearing the voice of the Drifter responding was enough that he didn't even feel the usual annoyance he felt as soon as the Drifter went on with a sharp: "what the hell do you want?".

"Thank God," murmured James, before turning to the Drifter, "I thought that... you got rid of the radio, I..." the researcher stopped again, trying to control his emotions and being surprised that Deacon didn't he had neither disconnected the communication nor was he urging him to tell him what ‘the hell’ he wanted. "I need a favor"

The Drifter's response was immediate: "And why should I do it? Our agreement is over, O’Brian”

"I know, I know," said James quickly, "I know you have no reason to do it, but please, NERO want me _dead-_ "

" _What_?"

"-Not dead, not exactly, _worse_. Only this please, St. John, only this, I swear to you that you will never hear a single word from me again and... I'm sorry for... I couldn't do better... I... I'm sorry. "James continued as if he hadn't heard the interrupt, any claim of calm abandoned.

Deacon's answer was not so immediate, this time: "What do you mean... _worse_?"

Honestly, he had expected that question and never hesitated before answering. - the channel was safe and, he couldn't really bring himself to care at the moment if they were intercepting the communication or not -. "NERO, those in charge of the operations, have found -created? - a new mutation in the _Hooligan Virus_... - the Freakers virus- and... they want to test it on my team. _They want to use me as a guinea pig_. "That last part came out like a frightened whisper, like something James hoped would be stifled by static, that would never be heard by anyone else.

For a long minute, there was no reply from the Drifter, only uninterrupted static, and then an indistinct noise from the other side and Deacon's voice, clear but subdued ' _those_ _NERO bastards_ ', then static again and after Deacon's voice cut it again, this time talking clearly to James: "Okay, O'Brian, I'll get you out of there. What is the plan? "

James nodded, instinctively, before beginning to expose his 'plan' - which was not, exactly, a plan, it was more the draft of a plan, it was more the guidelines of a plan than a real plan -: "At dawn they will send us near Marion Forks for a recon mission -I will send you the specific coordinates -, the team will not be complete just me and two soldiers. We must get rid of them, I will help you-”;

"Wait, your plan is to kill two NERO soldiers?" The same soldiers you told me were too heavily equipped to be killed by a _Drifter like me_? "

"Uh... my plan could have some imperfections, but it's the only way, if Franklin, the captain, stays alive... well, I might as well not even try to escape. They would find me. He has the ID of my tracker... and NERO stopped to put things on record for a while now.. so if he is dead, they can't track me down "

Deacon sighed. "Can't you just turn it off?"

“No” said James “.. well, actually I could, but I doubt you know how to make an intramuscular incision without cutting a tendon, am I wrong? So, if not both, we must at least get rid of Franklin."

"So, basically, the plan is to _somehow_ kill a well-armed NERO soldier and then, what, run away?"

"Practically. Look, St. John, I didn't have much time to think about what the hell to do to stop those... bastards turning me into a _freaker_ , okay? I can't do anything else. "

“Okay, _okay_ , O’Brian… it's still better than other situations where they sent me, or _you_ sent me. At least there is something that looks like a plan behind the whole thing. So to resume, I'll join you at the coordinates, find a way to kill this Franklin and it's done, right?"

"Yes, basically. Even if we’ll have only a few minutes to leave the area... before they send a rescue team”

"' _We'll have_ '? Do you intend to follow me, O’Brian?" asked the Drifter, there was a certain disbelief and annoyance in his tone

"Yes, but only for a short distance, enough to make them lose my track. Then our paths will split, once and for all, as I promised. "

James heard the Drifter sigh, a low noise in the static that disturbed the channel and then:

"All right"

"Perfect, I'm sending you the coordinates." And so he did, quickly and precisely, within a moment "Thank you, St. John. Thank you... you don't know how much this means to me. " But those words of thanks, Deacon didn’t hear having already closed the communication.

Strange how the situation had turned upside down, it was usually James who cut the connection before the Drifter finished speaking -just to avoid the risk of being discovered, of course.

* * *

Exchanging the Palmer modified to shoot tranquilizer darts with a Beretta (and replacing the first projectile of Franklin's MP5 magazine with an empty capsule cartridge) had been simpler than expected. Usually they kept an eye on him more than they were doing this time, and James didn't know what to do with that information... _did that mean his superiors trusted him enough? Or simply that they were so sure that the_ _tomorrow_ _he would die in their experiment so as not to worry about keeping him under control?_

But the answer didn't matter, not really. He was about to leave NERO and their inexplicable plans behind.

He followed Captain Franklin to the chopper.

Everything seemed _normal_ , the same as every other time he had left the base for a recon mission, the only thing that changed was the weight of the pistol in the holster, the Beretta was much heavier than the modified Palmer, and the fact that he was going up on the helicopter with the certainty that this was the last time -whatever the outcome of his plan was, positive _or_ negative- in which he saw the base.

The journey was quiet, silent as ever, the only sounds were that of the helicopter rotor and the sound of his own breathing amplified by the protective mask. In the relative calm, James reflected. It was what he had always done in a stressful situation, thinking, analyzing the situation, creating simulations of the event in his mind, trying to understand how to get the best possible result and what were the characteristics that could favor the aforementioned result.

His first conclusion was that once Franklin realized that his gun was unusable, there was a high possibility that he would try to engage in a direct confrontation and in that case at least in part he had some protection since the polyethylene visor of his protective mask held up well to hits, ergo even if Franklin had tried to throw a punch or to hit him with his elbow, the resistant plastic would have resisted the impact and the metallic mesh that obscured it reduced the bending to a minimum, so there was no way the soldier could hit it hard enough to reach the breaking point. He wasn't sure what would have happened if he would tried to use the rifle butt for the aforementioned hit.

The second conclusion was that he had enough adrenaline, and a number of other hormones responsible for the fear he felt, flowing in his blood that he probably wouldn’t immediately feel the effects of a possible fight with the soldier, even if his entire body would hate him later. But if he got to that point, it meant he had survived and therefore it was a positive conclusion as far as he was concerned.

And the third was that he was not at all prepared to engage in a fight with a trained soldier, the only thing he knew how to do was shoot, and even then, the recoil of a tranquilizer dart gun was practically nil compared to that of a real gun.

And the fourth conclusion was actually the realization that they were landing, so it was almost time.

He just hoped that Deacon would arrive on time, or that he hadn't already abandoned him because of how suicidal his plan was overall.

James got off the chopper, first he had to split Franklin from the other soldier, which fortunately was quite simple since the other was assigned by the captain to guard the helicopter. And secondly he had to not attract the captain's attention, not to stir up any suspicion. James took a breath, the filtered air of the mask smelled so neutral that it seemed completely artificial... and, strangely, it didn't bring the usual comfort, on the contrary accentuating his anxiety.

He subtly scanned the area looking for any sign that the Drifter was actually in there, as he continued as if... everything was normal, not finding any. James prepared anyway to act, having reached this point, _death_ was preferable to becoming a guinea pig for NERO.

A noise caught his attention, Franklin didn't hear it. James looked up searching for the origin point of the noise and he noticed, hidden in the shadows, the Drifter who pointed to something in the distance, before saying, and even if he couldn't hear his words James could figure out what he meant: ' _Go back. Swarm_.'

He heard the Swarm, a group of freakers, not big enough to be a horde but enough to be a serious danger, even before seeing it.

When Franklin noticed their presence, James had already begun to walk away, as suggested by Deacon. The Swarm was there, steadily advancing, running, hungry and screaming. A wave of voracious creatures once human, now something... _less_. Franklin raised the MP5 ready to discharge a shower of bullets that would have decimated the Swarm and would have even done so, pulled the trigger, eliminate the threat (He certainly could not have known that his magazine had been tampered with and that not a shot would left the weapon)... but what the soldier didn't expect was not the Swarm, not just that. What he couldn't expect was the sudden hit that in an instant brought him down with a scream, suffocated by the mask he wore on his face, his left knee completely unusable.

The Swarm grew closer and closer.

Franklin tried to figure out who shot him, how a raider or a ripper had gone unnoticed. Just to note, turning his head that the person who had just shot him, was the researcher he was protecting, a silenced beretta in his hands, his face invisible behind the dark visor of his mask.

The freakers were so close that he could smell them even in the air filtered from his mask, Franklin raised the MP5, his objectives: O’Brian and the freakers.

"I'm sorry... I really am," he heard the researcher say... the traitor, his voice so low that he could hardly be heard over the hungry and angry growls of the freakers. _He was sorry, eh? Oh, he would show him, how sorry he would be._ Franklin pulled the trigger, the MP5 pointed at the researcher and...

_click_.

He pulled the trigger again, believing that the weapon had jammed, but the result was always the same. _Clickclickclickclick_.

"I'm sorry," he heard the researcher say again, before he turned, gun still in his hands.

" _O'Brian_!" The captain shouted. "O'Brian! Fucking traitorous _coward_ , finish the job! "

But the researcher continued to move away, the freakers were about to surround the fallen captain.

‘ _No_ ,’thought the soldier, ‘ _You can't leave me to the_ _freaker_ _s! You can’t do this!_ '

The freakers surrounded him, ending up on top of each other, huddling around the wounded soldier. Whose gaze was on the distant figure of the researcher.

" _O'Brian_!"; and that angry and desperate scream was the last word that Captain Charles Franklin ever said.

* * *

"That was... _cruel_ ," Deacon commented as he reunited with the researcher, who still kept the beretta pointing it to nothing in particular. Although Deacon’s tone seemed devoid of any judgment, there was something in his eyes, as if he were studying James. As if for the first time since he had met that NERO researcher, he was trying to understand, exactly, how dangerous he was. "What did he ever do to deserve this end? Did he know more about the ID of your... microchip, O'Brian? "

Hearing his name seemed to pull the researcher out of whatever trance he had fallen into, as he and Deacon made their way to the latter's bike. "What?" The researcher asked before the question finally seemed to register "No. No, nothing more than what he _has to_ \- he had to know. "

"So by simple cruelty, eh? I don't know why I was expecting anything else, after all I saw other NERO researchers cut up a live freaker and listen to it scream. "

" _I'm not like that_." Was James's immediate response that meanwhile holdstered the gun.

“No judgment on my part, O’Brian”

The two reached the Drifter's bike, in silence.

"Hold on tight," Deacon warned once on the bike, followed by the researcher who gave only a nod to indicate that he had heard him.

And to leave behind the NERO chopper and the freakers that were surrounding it, Deacon was more than happy, even if O'Brian's silence disturbed him... but it was probably only due to the fact that he was used to having passengers who tended to talk more and to the fact that the mask -which he still wore- amplified the sound of his breathing unnervingly, making his presence almost... _too_ _in_ _human_.

"Is this your first time on a bike, O'Brian?" Deacon asked, trying to break the silence, while around them the forest grew thinner and the ground steeper, the asphalt was split in several places, stained with dried blood and here and there were torn bodies of large animals, it was difficult to understand if they had been attacked by freakers, runners or simple wolves or dogs.

"No, the first on a chopper, but not the first in general," James replied, his gaze lost in the landscape that seemed to run around them, he was so used to seeing it only from above or from afar, or not paying attention to it while concentrating on his work, that he had almost forgotten how it looked from the street, mobile, changing and... _serene_ , even if it was only an appearance there could be hidden threats in that apparent serenity, runners, freakers... _like those he left Franklin_ _being eaten by_... "Thank you, St. John-" he said, first because he really thought he owed some thanks to the Drifter for actually coming to help him - _when he had no reason to do so_ \- and second to remove that particular thought from his mind, but he was interrupted by the same Drifter he was trying to thank.

"Stop with all these ‘thanks’, O'Brian. It isn't as if I had done this out of the goodness of my heart. You helped me and I returned the favor. That's all.” Deacon avoided an abandoned car in the middle of the roadway, taking the curve a little more abruptly than usual, forcing James to tighten his grip on the luggage rack grid to avoid falling off the bike.

"Okay," the researcher agreed, looking around once more, they were far enough away from the area that the rescue team sent by NERO would look - _if he had done the calculations correctly_ \- and in the distance he could see some abandoned buildings. And James was determined to keep his promise as soon as possible, so as not to keep bothering Deacon with his presence -after all he was simply the constant reminder that while he was still alive, Deacon's wife had not survived.

"St. John "he started" This is my stop, we are far from the search area of the rescue team... and as I said, ‘ _just_ _for_ _a short stretch of road’_ , right? "

What James did not expect was the Drifter's response to what he had just said. "Not a chance, O'Brian. I won't leave you in the middle of nowhere, in an area infested with Swarms, I’m not doing that. "

"I have a gun, I can defend myself"

Deacon continued along the road "Yes, and you only have that, one magazine and your _space suit_ , and out there there are hundreds and hundreds of freakers, and groups of raiders, rippers... no, not a chance. You'd get yourself killed. "

"So? Why should you care? I'm not one of your _friends_ ”

"True" conceded the Drifter "You are not one of my friends, on the contrary. You're just a NERO asshole who sent me to spy on his colleagues, because he couldn't bear to be left in the dark about what was going on, with the excuse of helping me find out what happened to my wife... just to tell me what I already knew. "Deacon avoided another abandoned vehicle, now reduced to the chassis, with another sharp turn, this time following the movement he heard a metallic noise and a hissing sound, a gas-like hiss, which it lasted only a few moments.

O'Brian's respirator filter must have hit the grid of the luggage rack and must have lost pressure and judging by the speed with which the sound was finished, O'Brian must have turned it off -which meant he would soon have to take off the mask or the hermetic seal would have left him without a single breath of air.

"But this doesn't mean that I will leave you to the freakers as you did with that soldier, I am not that _cruel_ ," added the Drifter, the meant ' _not as_ _you were_ ' made more than clear by his tone. Slowing the pace of the bike enough to allow the researcher to remove the protective mask while they continued to move.

"So, what's _your_ plan?"the researcher asked , and his voice without the mask deadening sounded even younger

"I'll take you to Lost Lake Camp"


	2. Chapter 1: Iron Mike's Camp

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The hatred against NERO seems to be just as strong in Iron Mike's camp

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Name calling, use of derogative terms, (aka Skizzo is an asshole)

" _What_ ?" O 'Brian exclaimed, and Deacon could not understand why he was shocked, _did he really expect him to leave him in the middle of nowhere? He certainly had no reason to help him, but that didn't mean he was completely heartless._ "You can't really believe that _that_ is the safest place to take me"

"Do you have anything against Iron Mike?" Asked the Drifter, followed by a comment pronounced in a slightly more pungent tone: "I didn't think you, NERO, knew the camps _enough_ to have opinions about them."

"St. John, it's a camp of _survivors_ , "O 'Brian said instead of answering his question, or his comment.

"We are all survivors even those from NERO, although how little you care about us here, you too have survived"

"Absolutely true"the researcher accepted "I am not trying to say that we are not or that we are in a situation different from yours but-"

: _This is Radio Free Oregon; The Truth shall set you free_ :

Mark Copeland's voice left the Drifter radio interrupting the researcher.

: _It has come to my attention that some of you out there working with NERO. The very same NERO we saw cut down a group of survivors not too long ago. The same NERO that abandoned us here in this shit two years past. Some would call these people fools, but I got a better name for ’em: traitors. And I assure you, I don't take treason lightly. But, I am a reasonable man, so you get one warning. Listen up! Stop what you're doin'. Now. Before we find you. 'Cause we will. And when we do, you will pay. I'll personally string you up on the biggest tree I find. And while you're breathing your last, we'll quarter you and feed you to the Freaks you love. That is a promise…_ _Don’t believe the lies_ :

"Does this answer your question, St. John?" O 'Brian said after a long moment of silence "If you take me _there_... at least with freakers I would have a chance of survival"

"Iron Mike is not like Copeland, he won't have you executed just because you're from NERO"

"Maybe not him... but who says others won't try anyway?" asked O'Brian, and yes, Deacon had to admit that his voice sounded really younger... and _scared_.

Deacon sighed. "You have a gun, right? Well, if any of those assholes try to do anything to you -and I can't believe I'm going to say it seriously- _use it_ "

"And wouldn't that put me in a worse situation?"

Deacon sighed once more, this time more annoyed than before. "Listen, O’Brian, I don't know how the fuck you are used to in NERO but out here the idea of self-defense still exists even among people in the same camp, okay? And... and Mike is a reasonable guy, forget the bullshit Copeland said, apart from his ‘truthers’ nobody believes what he says"

"I understand, St. John." The researcher said, his tone seemed almost resigned as if with those simple two words he was also saying ‘ _I can't make you change your mind._ ’

The landscape around them had changed, the steep terrain had given way to a more level and muddy terrain, fewer trees and more low and infesting plants suitable for the more marshy area. It was shortly before they reached the Lost Lake Camp. And Deacon was beginning to think that maybe it wasn't really a good idea to bring the researcher to the camp, but... he couldn't leave him in the middle of nowhere and stay on good terms with his own conscience, after all O'Brian could still be NERO but he had helped him, in fact more than once.

The fortified perimeter of the camp came into view.

"Everything will be fine, O'Brian," said Deacon after hearing the researcher murmur something to himself, and to be honest he didn't even know why he was trying to ease his fear, after all, now, he too wasn't absolutely sure that everything would went well.

" _Open up, it's Deacon!_ " The voice of one of the guards guarding the ‘gate’- plus a mobile barricade that a real gate- of the camp broke the tense silence when the two reached the Lost Lake Camp.

And seeing what happened next, it could have been worse.

\---

Deacon was more than aware of the rifles that were aimed at them, in particular against O’Brian once the guards were aware of his presence when the gate was closed.

Yes, the hatred against NERO had to be quite widespread even at Iron Mike’s camp.

“Hey, hey, lower your weapons," Deacon said, moving slightly in front of the researcher after they got off the bike. "He’s not... dangerous," he added, even though he wasn't completely sure about that last part, not having seen him leave one of his 'allies' to the freakers - _that poor bastard, he could have had a better end_ -.

"He's from NERO!" One of the guards exclaimed, their tone high enough that if there was any hope that someone had not yet realized what was happening they had done so now and they also knew the reason. "You brought a NERO agent here!"

"I'm not... an agent," said O 'Brian, and it was clear he was going to say something else. When a voice, which Deacon immediately recognized, interrupted him.

"Well, well, what have we got here?" Skizzo, head of the camp’s security, joined them, a little smile on his face "The Drifter brought one of those NERO bastards to us..." he said adding a: ' _I knew we couldn't trust him_ ’ as he approached them.

And Deacon noticed that Skizzo's gaze wasn’t on him at all, it was on O 'Brian, and stared at him like a hound staring at the fox. With a thirst for blood and ready to pounce on the attack.

"I don't know why they called you, Skizzo, but really let it go, O’Brian is not a threat to the camp"

"Why don't we let the NERO bitch talk, uh? Let's see what he has to say about it "

"It is with Iron Mike that he has to speak, not with you," the Drifter intervened before O’Brian could speak, irritated by Skizzo's excessive hostility and his annoying bastard-like tone.

"Ah-Ah, _Deek_." Skizzo smiled, pointing the gun at him "Take another step and I'll shoot you, Mike doesn't need to know what's going on and given your betrayal, I'm sure everyone will keep their mouth shut "

"Betrayal?" He repeated, but did not take another step, he knew that the bastard was serious with his threat "I brought a survivor, how would it be treason?!"

"But he is not a survivor. He is a NERO agent "

"I'm a researcher, not an agent," said O'Brian, moving away from Deacon, Skizzo pointed the weapon at him instead of at the Drifter "I don't even know how to shoot, as the Drifter said, I'm not a threat, I'm only looking for a place to escape… from NERO ";

A couple of the armed men surrounding them lowered their weapons, if they had been convinced by O'Brian's words or if something in what he said had made them doubt that he was dangerous was hard to say, but in fact they stopped aiming against him.

"Oh, really?" Skizzo said sarcastically taking a step towards the researcher, James met his gaze, fear in his eyes, but also determination and something... _cold_ , "Because I think you're here to spy on us for account of NERO "

"Trust me, NERO doesn't care about the camps, or the survivors," Deacon broke through again, drawing Skizzo's attention back to him, but the gun was pointed at O'Brian, and the Drifter was certain that Skizzo's threat was real, as opposed to any threat he had ever made to O'Brian.

"You know, Deacon, the fact that you keep preventing him from talking really makes me think that you and the NERO bitch are hiding something"

"What the hell is going on here?!" the strong and authoritative voice of Iron Mike suddenly sounded in the air as the man arrived, Rikki next to him -apparently she was the only one who had decided to warn Mike of what was happening in his own camp -

"The Drifter brought a NERO spy into our camp, Mike," Skizzo answered immediately

"I didn't bring a ‘NERO spy’, I brought a survivor," Deacon said at the same time.

"Skizzo, lower that gun," said Iron Mike,

"What? Mike, come on, you can't be believing that Drifter! He's working with him! "

"Skizzo, the gun. Lower it _now_. "

The man continued to hold the gaze of Iron Mike, the gun still pointed at the researcher. "I can't believe you still trust him after what happened with the Rippers," he said, but he lowered the gun anyway, holstering it. "When NERO arrives here, marching though, you'll see... you'll see who was right, _Mike_ ," he added, then left after a last look, full of rage, at the Drifter and the researcher.

The guards returned to their posts soon after.

"So you really brought a NERO agent to the camp," said Iron Mike to the Drifter after a few moments of silence.

"If I may, sir, I'm not an agent, I've already told this to, uh, I suppose, the head of security? In any case, I am a researcher, not an agent "

Honestly, the calm that permeated O'Brian's voice surprised Deacon, seeing how scared he had been when they reached the camp and at the same time it didn't really surprise him, he had looked Skizzo right in the eye while he had a gun pointed at him, knowing that the he wouldn't hesitate to shoot him, he hadn't shown him a single shred of fear.

"But you are a NERO"

"Yes, sir... but we could say that I... _defected_ "

"Defected? I didn't think you NERO had the balls to go against your superiors "

Deacon noticed how the posture of the researcher became stiffer and the coldness in his gaze suffocated even fear, suddenly O'Brian no longer looked like a young researcher who had never been in a situation of real danger, something in his eyes reminded the Drifter, the look that Iron Mike himself had at Sherman's Camp.

 _The look of a survivor who had lived through horrible things, and seen even worse_.

"With all due respect, sir," O'Brian began, his tone calm and detached, surprisingly cold -Deacon couldn't help but wonder if it was the same tone that O'Brian used with his superiors - "But you know nothing about me, nothing about what I've been through or _seen_ to suppose that I don't have the courage to go against my superiors "

The hostility, less pronounced than that of the others, of Iron Mike seemed to diminish in recognizing the look on the young man's face. "True" the man accepted "This is absolutely true, and to be able to accept you or not in this camp you will have to tell me something about yourself, but not here. Follow me. "He said then.

Deacon made to follow O'Brian only to be stopped by Iron Mike, and despite his protest - _not that he didn't trust Mike but at the same time seeing the hostility he showed him, he didn't feel it was right to leave O'Brian alone with him_ \- he was finally forced to let the researcher go alone with the camp leader.

"Seriously, why the hell did you bring a NERO here?"

James heard the woman ask Deacon once he and Iron Mike had gone far enough.

"What do you want to know, sir?" asked James, as he and the man made their way to a building at the highest point of the camp.

"Well, _J. O’Brian_ , why don’t we start with your name?" The man said, after noticing the researcher’s ID card.

"It's James, sir, James O 'Brian"

"So tell me, James, what reasons could have led a NERO researcher to defect?" The man asked when they reached the building, and entered it.

"I helped the Drifter, sir, I suppose my superiors didn't particularly like that part and... they decided to terminate me, so I left before they killed me," said James, knowing that it wasn't the truth, not the complete truth... but he preferred not to tell NERO's plans to use the Hooligan as a means of genetic engineering. It was something that had such a high chance of ending in a failure that made no sense to create alarmism among the survivors - _if they_ _even_ _believed it_.

Iron Mike nodded, "Deacon, the Drifter, trusts you," he said then, it wasn’t even a question, but a statement.

"What? No sir, he doesn't trust me... we have only been useful to each other "

"He wouldn't have brought you here, if he didn't trust you, James" the man said. "And that's why I know I can trust you. Deacon doesn’t trust anyone and if you have his trust then you also have mine "

"Sir?"

"Oh, and please, finish it off with all these 'sir 'and so on, we're not in the army... or in the _NERO_ ," said Iron Mike, and James nodded, not knowing how else to respond.

_He was confused, so had he had been accepted ? In this way ? Without proof, just because apparently Deacon trusted him? Was it really that easy?..._

"James, how much do you know about Hordes?"

"Everything you need to know, on a biological and behavioral level."

The man nodded, then showed him a map, on which some of the most important cave systems had been marked. Then tell him about the plan - _Deacon's_ \- to seal the entrances while the Horde was in hibernation.

" _How possible is this plan?_ "

* * *

Deacon's gaze was on the lodge, where Iron Mike and O'Brian were, it had been a while since the leader and researcher had left, and Deacon couldn't stop thinking that maybe O'Brian was right, he shouldn't have taken him to a camp.

The Drifter checked the refill clip, before sliding it into the empty magazine of his 9mm.

"Mike's not going to kill the NERO you brought, stop worrying" Boozer's voice caught his attention, finally bringing him back out of his mind. "And about this, I can't believe I had to know that you brought a NERO agent here, from that bastard Skizzo"

"He isn’t an agent" was the first thing that Deacon said, the first thing that came to his mind "And honestly until I brought him here, I didn't even know I would bring him here to the camp"

"Only you, you can think about to bring a NERO guy into a camp, in a spur-of-the-moment decision" Boozer said, but from the smirk on his face, he wasn't judging his choice negatively. "Let me guess, he is that how-was-he-called... -"

"-O’Brian"

"-O’Brian, the guy who helped Sarah that night in Farewell and helped you... know what happened"

Deacon nodded, almost absent-mindedly "Yes, Boozeman, it's him"

"When Mike lets him go, I have to meet him," the other Drifter said . "I absolutely have to meet this O'Brian, after all he has helped you several times and told you where to find those NERO hypos for me, if it hadn't been for him it would have ended worse than this-" Boozer continued, pointing at the armed prosthesis of his arm "for my arm. And he managed to piss off Skizzo just by looking him in the eyes, which is a plus point in his favor "

Deacon just smiled "As soon as Mike lets him go"

* * *

" _That should be all,_ " James concluded.

"You seem to know more than something about dealing with a Horde more than anyone with only theoretical knowledge should," said Iron Mike after thanking the researcher for input and advice on how to improve Deacon's plan.

Given that apparently the Drifter missed the fact that a Horde suddenly awakened from hibernation was a thousand times more dangerous and aggressive than a normal Horde was, even during the night that was the moment of maximum activity of the freakers.

James turned his gaze to the map once more, his ice blue eyes pointed at one of the mines marked on it. - _They weren't going to wake them up, just putting a motion sensor in the tunnel entrance, it_ _had been_ _an accident... The sensor shouldn't have emitted any sound once activated, but it did and they found themselves surrounded by a horde. The freakers growled and screeched, huddled together, grabbing, scratching, biting and the hazmats_ _weren’t of any protection against_ _their_ _clawed hands_ _..._ \- James looked away from the map, turning to the camp leader.

"It is not just theoretical, in fact"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked this chapter, I've only a few explaination and a question to do.  
> Would you like to see an extension of James' flashback in the next chapter? (I've not still decided if I want to do it flashback style or narrated by James any ideas?)  
> About the NERO hypos, they are basically the NERO injectors of the game, why James told Deek some of their locations? Because I can't actually believe that in canon Deacon didn't think even once to ask O'Brian if he knew how to help cure Boozer's infection.

**Author's Note:**

> Captain Charles Franklin isn't the Franklin(the botany mayor) of the game since he is a corporal and not a captain. He is another character entirely. (It's just a coincidence that they have the same surname)


End file.
